Covered with half of Jerusalem up to
Their breath,
Covered with walls, hanging balconies, up to
The spring of an eye, up to
The genesis of colors —
Covered with stars
Through thin olive branches
Etched on nightmetal
With a needle of silence —
Covered with springs where angels bathe
Before turning into peasants, blacksmiths —
My fingers stretch, strike roots,
For generations,
Stretch and touch, palpable as clay,
Grasp themselves
And all the nonexistent.

1966